After a delightful two-week visit with my daughter and her family, I am once again at the airport, awaiting my flight’s boarding call.

On this morning’s drive to the SeaBus terminal at Lonsdale Quay in North Vancouver, courtesy of my daughter, I mentioned what a lovely time I’d had, as always.

“Even though we mostly did nothing?” she queried.

Yes. Even as the Norovirus swept through the household, afflicting each of us in turn, I still had, the best of times. Not the worst.

The unexpected guest, Norovirus, paradoxically, became the backdrop against which precious moments unfolded. Its presence meant our world shrank to mostly staying home, to the exclusion of time spent with the children’s friends and other social activities. Fortunately, before its arrival, I was able to watch my grandson’s dedication in his Karate class and was awed by his focus and attention throughout the session. When I told him how much I admired his focus he replied confidently, “Yes. I’m very focused in Karate.”

And here’s the thing, once the virus began to roam through the house, it didn’t dampen our spirits. It instead curated moments of simple joys—building sandcastles at the beach, exploring playgrounds, wandering through forests, and strolling along North Vancouver’s scenic seawall. Together, we baked bread, made pancakes (my grandchildren are expert Chocolate Chip Testers) and laughed and played games together where it was never quite clear who actually won.

And though my grandson’s sixth birthday bash was postponed, our small celebration, complete with cake, candles, and the Happy Birthday anthem, was no less heartwarming. His excitement over new toys—a Minecraft Lego set, Air Nerf guns, and a vintage Foosball table—brought laughter and competitive spirit into our days, even as my three-year-old granddaughter amusingly disrupted the game with her innocent chaos.

These instances of togetherness, of fun and laughter, underscored the essence of family.

One memorable evening, with my son-in-law away and my granddaughter under the weather, I had the pure joy of reading bedtime stories—an unexpected, yet profoundly cherished, bonus.

And, added bonus! My daughter and I did fit in our traditional dinner at the Arm’s Reach Bistro in Deep Cover!

Could our time together have unfolded differently? Perhaps.

But the essence of its perfection lies not in the activities we did or didn’t do, but in the love, connection, and quality family time that characterized my visit. It was, in every sense, a perfect encapsulation of the joy and bond of family.